Beautiful food

garden

May 12, 2012

Once in Paris, I braved the unkind elements and never stopped for a minute. I took tons of pictures, walked perhaps 6 hours a day, only stopping at every other boulangerie for chouquettes, and to do research at various museums and libraries for the historical parts of my novel.

Beside being wet and cold, my main peeve with my time in Paris was to continuously look for bathrooms. It's an OCD thing. If I begin to think I might need to go it turns obsessional.

The only places to go to the bathroom in Paris are the cafes. But when you go the bathroom in a cafe you end up drinking something, and an hour later you have to repeat the process: obsess. pee. drink. repeat.

That first day I stopped to pee at Parisian cafes so many times I believe in hindsight that I was doing the human equivalent of marking my territory.

The following days I bypassed the problem entirely by avoiding tea and only drinking espresso (less liquids.) So I pretty much spent a week running on espresso and chouquettes. I had tons on manic energy, it was great!

* about those pictures: The rain does have its advantages. No harsh lights and contrasts, and no tourists.

These pictures were taken around my beloved Eiffel Tower. This was Day Two. I started at Métro Passy. Bought chouquettes (twice) in my old neighborhood. Then I walked toward Trocadéro and down to the gardens that surrounds the Eiffel Tower. The marroniers were in full bloom, it felt like such a gift to be in Paris at the peak of blooming season for wisteria, clematis AND Horse Chestunut trees. When I got to the tower, it was grey and pouring rain, and then, suddenly, as though she was recognizing me and brightening at the sight of me, her old friend, the clouds parted, blue sky peaked through and the sun shone brightly (though not for long).

I was so thankful and happy to be there. So happy to be taking my time. I walked all around the Eiffel tower at my pace. No husband eager to run to the next thing. No kid tired of walking. I was in heaven.

May 11, 2011

I am spinning and loving it. Of course I do not mean spinning on those torture devices called stationary bikes. In fact the only exercise I'm getting lately is to my fingers as I type and to my jaw as I munch on snacks. I mean my mind is spinning, I'm fully engaged intellectually and emotionally promoting my novel Hidden in Paris (in case you were hiding under a rock, on planet Mars.) I've received tons of emails and comments of encouragement, and I'm starting to get reviews and they are all GOOD! (thank you mom). Many bloggers have accepted to trade advertisement buttons with me, which is also GOOD and you'll start seeing them in the margin.

I was particularly touched by a certain blogger, who who went out of her way for me, so let me tell you what she does. The blog is called Une Petite Folie and the author of the blog, Linda Carswell lives in Tasmania but travels A LOT and I'm astounded at the beauty of her photography. But forget telling you. Let me show you.

There other thing that she is passionate about are miniatures, so if you're into the mini lifestyle you really should bookmark her site because it's shock full of the most delicate miniature house she is creating, as well as mini rooms, mini furnitures, mini objects and even mini food.

On an embarrassing note: The first edition of the novel has typos in it. I knew it but I did not know where to find them. Now I do... ahem. Sorry guys, I'm fixing this. If you get a copy of Hidden in Paris riddled with as many as twenty typos you can feel special because you know you are in possession of a first edition, (in case i become famous or something--doubtful, but hey, looking for a silver lining to this.) I know some will crucify me for this but what can they do to my sense of shame that I haven't done to myself already :(

February 25, 2009

..i feel it in my toes (hum to the tune of that fantabulous song in Love Actually) Spring is beginning to be all around me, and so the feeling grows....

What I'm trying to say is that I have the urge to plant! It's time of the year when my car seems to drive itself to nurseries a bit too often.

But plant where? Every scare inch of my garden is occupied either by an existing plant or by the plant that is sure to emerge and take over come april.

The solution might be to go up, up, up. Like the French Landscaper botanist genius Patrick Blanc. I told you about him here but a lot has happened in the world of vertical gardening since, as those pictures show.

This is not about a great selection of plants. Blanc devised a special metal frame so that the plants can grow parallel to the surfaces without adding weight or humidity to them. It's fascinating.

He says that plants only need soil as a mean of support. What they need is water and mineral and light, which the system provides. Also, as long as water is abundant, plants only creates lighter, smaller, non invasive roots. Without the presence of soil, the planting then becomes light enough so that it can be done vertically.

He uses seeds and cuttings, applies them to a structure made of metal and PVC.

I'm assuming he used cuttings here:

This one is perfect for the rain.

I found interesting that the walls seem to be vandalism free. I guess even bad seeds have to bow down to the beauty of nature.

Oh, on a different note, the ad below is always a shocker to me: right now it's all about rehab centers. Why? Is it the tone of my posts? Is adsense trying to tell me something? Oh yeah, I mentioned being addicted to political blogs yesterday. What-EVER!

What was once a movie set is now a botanical paradise, with a large lake full of Koi and swans. There are grottos, statues representative of the various religions. There is even a dutch windmill. (?) It's a mishmash of architectural style with a wildly tropical feel, and perfectly manicured. Just what my tense, Chinese earthquake-obsessed mind needed.

Oh I wish I could show you pictures of Isabelle with her chinese paper sun umbrella but she would not forgive me.

Shhh. People are meditating here.

They are meditating there

They are meditating everywhere.

Some of Mahatma Ghandi ashes are buried there. (am I actually rhyming?)

May 01, 2008

Today is the first day of May and all over France people are exchanging tiny bouquets of the most exquisitely scented of all flowers: the Muguet, or Lilly of the Valley. This is a lovely custom I took for granted. Streets vendors materialize at every corner with large baskets filled with the 'little clochettes blanches'. This is just for one day, for good luck, and to claim that spring has arrived (or better have).

March 24, 2008

Sorry to everyone who is still dealing with snow, I don’t mean to gloat, but out here is Southern California, the Easter week-end was amazingly warm and gorgeous. Every jasmine bloom in the county must have burst at the same instant and the scent was everywhere.

Since we didn’t travel we splurged a little and heated the pool. I pretty much never left the house. The kids had friends over, I gardened, and we had an egg hunt (which my 15 year old participated to as though this was a funeral. Maybe it’s time for me to get out of denial in that respect. )My nine year old and I made really cool beads with Sculptey, my sister and new hubby came over for dinner and she was a bit dissapointed to find no heart-shaped chicken in her poulet basquaise.

View from the tree house

Did I ever show you my rare blue palm tree?

And because totally i suck at delaying gratification, I had to buys some beads (and even destroy some perfectly functioning pieces) in order to reproduce the amazing necklace found on Liberty Post. This is my first draft:

February 24, 2008

I found myself commenting feverishly on her post, and then realized after 1200 words or so that I too had a story that wanted to be told.

Oh I feel your pain Maryam!

Landscaper con artist I too am familiar with! Please allow me to tell you how I learned massive amounts both about landscaping and the infinite gullibility of the human spirit.

We had thought of landscaping our garden in phases. We had a little money now and wanted to ‘a little bit of this and that’. We, of course, gleefully signed on the one landscaper who said he could do not only ‘a little bit of this and that’ but our ENTIRE landscaping within our small budget. We will call the man Landscaper from Hell, or LFH in short. (Though in truth, we were the big idiots. When something sounds too good to be true, it invariably is. )

Like for Maryam and the Peacock Pavilion landscape, our LFH asked for a LARGE advance, which we were all too eager to pay. From there on, things went incredibly fast. At first. It took LFH no time at all to dig out, rip out, and tear out the existing grounds, leaving us with a pile of rubble and mud of cataclysmic proportions. The backyard, pool, even driveway became unusable. They would remain that way as things slowwwwed down and streeeetched over fifteen! months!... until things finally came to screeching halt with all the usual accoutrements of unreturned phone calls and missed appointments.

We then had to pay cold-hard cash, to a hard-core pro to do the hard-scape, and believe me, that broke the bank, because with everything torn up there was no more doing things ‘in stages’.

But take heart Maryam, Sometimes you don't see the silver lining of a bad experience until much later.
Because we ran out of money. I ended up doing the plant selection and the planting all by myself. I learned that I loved gardening and that gardening loved me back. In the end we SUED Landscaper From Hell and WON (small claims court but that was sooo validating.) Three years later, I don’t know what I’m most proud of: that each thriving plant in my garden was planted and nurtured by my own dirt-encrusted hands, or that my marriage survived the ordeal.

Here are pictures from last spring and summer. Because I'm always digging out, pulling, replacing and planting, the garden looks entirely different from one year to the next.

Here is the backyard.

This is the front yard. We created a courtyard with a fountain and fishpond in front to hide the house from the street and the street from the house.

I also noticed in very fine prints on page 62 that Sunset’s 2008 dream garden Awards are underway. There are several categories and I’m thinking of submitting my garden in the incredible makeover categories (The deadline for home gardeners is April 16th).

What do you think? Here are some before pictures of the front yard. I balk at posting those but...

July 17, 2007

A few days ago, an interesting article in the health section of the Los Angeles Times talked about America's tendency towards workaholism, with workers using their rare vacation days to stay home when the children are sick or when the cable repair man is expected.

My whole childhood, my family would pack the car and drive to the south of France for an entire month every year. It was a major production, but that month was so filled with sushine and small pleasures that it made the rest of the year, the long hours in school, the constant rain, and the indignities of living in a big city, worth putting up with. It wasn't just us, every family would either spend the month of August or July on a holiday. As a matter of fact, most of my favorite French blogs are all on repos which means rest, or hiatus, for the summer.

Rest? What rest? I'm an American woman now. I must be productive, I must achieve, I must get things done...
Or do I?
How come the Italians have the expression arte de vivere, the French have art de vivre, and in Unites States, one could put the words together to come up with 'art of living', but what would it mean? Fast car and designer clothes? In France for example, it only refers to the quality of a life well lived, a life spent relishing each of your senses, with or without money. Art de vivre, for example, could mean the ability to engage in the act of doing nothing.

Here are a few pergolas under which nothing could be done:

Here in southern California, it’s hot! (5 degrees today and dry, my oh my is it dry. I’ve been lusting after an iron pergola from Unopiu.

But what to do? the Italian manufacturer has stores in Italy, France, Austria, Germany and Spain. But what about us? I think it is time someone import one of those wonderful structures.

What about a slice of tarte au citron with your Pastis?
Or a wee nap, maybe?

June 15, 2007

This is old news, maybe, but beautiful too. I’ ve been fascinated for a while now by the work of French artist/ landscaper/botanis/dreamer Patrick Blanc. Unfortunately I could not steal, ahem… borrow photos from his website, but I did find some great photos of one of his vertical gardens installed on the Musée du Quai Branly on this fine website: Inhabitat where you can go for info on why, how and accessorily some interesting points made about the potential lack of sustainability of the whole enterprise. I wonder what it looks like now. Is it all fané (wilted) I hope not.